


Invites and Crowns

by Refreshingly_Original



Series: The Red Queen [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Once Upon a Time (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 21:26:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7986808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Refreshingly_Original/pseuds/Refreshingly_Original
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"No," Hermione said sharply, "I doubt I will tell you much of anything again Headmistress."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Invites

Sitting in what had quickly become her spot at the end of the Gryffindor table, Hermione furiously wrote away on her weekly letter to Regina. The students had learnt the hard way not to interrupt or try to read what she was writing after one nosey fifth year had tried to talk to her. The only person courageous enough to attempt to anymore was Neville, the only other Gryffindor who had returned to finish his schooling. The two had grown closer since their return; sharing the same pain that everyone assumed was from the trauma of battle. Neither were willing to share what the real cause was, and that was just fine with the other.

Across from her, Neville flipped the page of his potions book, glancing up at the silent girl as he did so. She was finishing off the letter she had been working on all breakfast when movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention. Turning around, he looked at the Headmistress as she stood form her seat, drawing the attention of the students.

“As you all know, the Christmas holidays are drawing near, and as it is the first without the threat of Voldemort hanging over us, the rest of the Professor’s and I have decided that there will be a ball held on Christmas eve.” She waited for the chatter to die down before continuing, “It is open to all, so if you wish, you can invite your family. That is all.” With that, the emerald clad woman turned and left the hall.

Turning back to his book, he waited until he saw Hermione roll the parchment up before speaking, “Have you decided on whether or not you’ll be staying for the holidays?”

Summoning a strand of blood red ribbon, she magically tied it around the parchment, “No. You?”

He shook his head, “I figured I’d stay and help Professor Sprout, but Gran wants me to come home.”

Hermione smiled in sympathy. Leaning over the table, she covered his hand with her own, “Well, if I decide to leave for the season, you can come with me and get away from everything.”

Smiling back, Neville nodded, “I think I’d like that.”

“Good,” She said, standing up, “Meet you in the library?” She asked, shouldering her backpack.

“Yeah.”

Nodding once more Hermione turned and left the hall, wondering if she should stay in the castle for the holidays.

* * *

A week later Hermione walked down the hallway leading to the library reading the letter she had received that morning from Regina. It was an invite to stay with her over the holidays. As she read through it, she seriously considered going back to New York. She missed her new friend, and it would be just the thing for Neville. Turning the corner, she turned the page over, not noticing the two conversing Professors ahead of her.

“Will you be bringing a date to the Yule Ball Minerva?” Filius asked, looking up at the head.

Chuckling dryly, Minerva shook her head, “Come now Filius, you should know better by now.”

Laughing along with his long-time friend, he turned, spotting Hermione, “And what about you Miss Granger? Will you be bringing a date?”

Hearing her name, Hermione looked up, “Pardon Professor?”

“Will you be accompanied to the Yule Ball?” He asked, smiling slightly.

Blinking, Hermione slowly folded the letter up, “I was considering returning to New York for the season,” She said, glancing down at the paper in her hand. Tapping it against the palm of her hand, she felt herself smirk, “Although, I think I might just invite her here.”

Frowning, Minerva jumped in, “You do remember Miss Granger, that muggles cannot enter the grounds.”

Arching her brow, Hermione’s smirked even more, “Oh she is no muggle Headmistress.” She drawled, the older witches title falling from her lips like honey. Nodding to the diminutive Professor, she continued on her way to the library, leaving the two heads to watch her in surprise.

“She has changed.” Flitwick said.

Minerva hummed, “Mmm, yes she has.”

* * *

A few days later Hermione received an answer to her invitation to the ball. During her first lesson of the day, a small horse, no larger than a hand, galloped into the room on a cloud of purple smoke. Holding out her hand for the small winged horse to land on, Hermione smiled, gently scratching the top of his head.

“Hello Articus.”She whispered, mindful of the other students.

The tiny transparent horse butted his head against Hermione’s finger, causing her to smile once more, “Yes, yes, you’re a pretty boy,” She chuckled, “Now are you going to tell me what she said?” She asked, not noticing the set of green eyes watching her closely.

Flicking his mane, Articus let out a soft whine before a velvety voice started speaking, _“I would love to escort you to a ball darling; it has been far too long since I’ve gone to one.”_

Hermione gave a small snort; she knew exactly why she hadn’t gone to any.

_"Shall we meet for lunch today? You can explain to me what I’ll need for a holiday in Scotland. Talk soon dear.”_ As Regina’s message finished, Articus shook his head, his long mane flying around wildly.

“Will you be staying pretty boy?”

Nodding his head, he let out a series of quiet snorts, amusing Hermione. Bringing her hand up to her shoulder, she let him walk from her hand, “Very well, stay quiet.”

Neighing softly in her ear, he settled down and slept.

Dropping her hair over her shoulder, she returned to her work, still not having noticed the curious expression on her professor’s face.

* * *

When the lesson was over, Minerva looked to her prized pupil, bright eyes falling to the partially visible patronus she could see still resting on the girls shoulder. “Miss Granger,” She called, “Could you stay behind please?”

Looking up at the woman, she shouldered her backpack and walked up to stand in front of her desk. She waited for the older witch to speak, but when she didn’t, she arched her brow in silent question.

Realizing Hermione wasn’t going to say anything, Minerva cleared her throat, “I noticed that you received a patronus during class.”

Again Hermione stayed silent, waiting for the older witch to ask what she wanted to know.

Becoming flustered, Minerva shuffled some of the papers on her desk, “I also noticed that after delivering its message, it didn’t fade.”

Sighing, Hermione readjusted her bag, “What is it you wish to know Headmistress?”

“How did it not fade? It is impossible for them to stay corporal after a certain amount of time.”

Hermione smirked, “As impossible to put an object in a completed portrait I’d say.”

Lips pursing, Minerva narrowed her eyes at the clearly amused girl, Yes, I was also wondering how you managed that feat of magic.”

“What can I say; I learnt a lot while away.” She tilted her head, still smirking, “Is that all Headmistress?”

“You won’t tell me how you have managed to accomplish the impossible, are you Miss Granger.”

Any trace of emotion vanished, “No,” Hermione said sharply, “I doubt I will tell you much of anything again Headmistress.”

Surprised at the sudden change, Minerva didn’t stop the girl as she spun around and left. Watching after her student, she spotted a small transparent head poke out from between the thick locks of hair. Even from the back of the room, Minerva could swear the miniature horse was glaring at her.

* * *

The day before the ball arrived oddly warm. It was still cool enough to need to wear a jumper, but as most of the students had grown used to the weather, most were only wearing jeans and long sleeved shirts. Minerva herself was wearing lighter robes, something that surprised some of the students who had only ever seen her in her thick teaching robes. Shaking her head, she walked around, looking for Hermione and her guest. She had run into Filius not long after breakfast who had told her that the girls  _date_ had arrived.

Walking passed the courtyard; she stopped when she heard the unmistakable laugh of the young woman she was looking for. Closing her eyes, she savoured the sound she had not heard in well over a year. Taking a deep breath, she turned and looked out at the empty yard, quickly finding Hermione and her guest tucked away in one of the stone arches. She couldn’t see much of the woman other than the shoulder length hair and black trench she was wearing. Straightening up, she walked out into the courtyard.

“Miss Granger, Professor Flitwick informed me that your guest had arrived.”

Standing up, Hermione gestured for the other woman to stand as well. “Headmistress, Regina Mills.”

Turning to face the other woman, Minerva felt her eyes widen when she realized that she was older then she had expected. Recovering quickly, she stretched out her hand, smiling politely.

Looking at her friend who was smiling at her former mentor, Hermione continued, “Regina, Headmistress McGonagall.”


	2. Crowns

Walking down the hallway, mentally going over a list of things she had to do before she could go up to her quarters to start getting ready for the ball, Minerva sighed. She had so much to do, she doubted she could even find the time to just sit and rest for a few minutes. Shaking her head, she adjusted her glasses and started making her way down the moving staircases. Down several levels, Hermione and Regina were making their way up to the Gryffindor Tower. Thanks to her enhanced hearing, Minerva could pick up most of what the pair was talking about.

“So what have you done with it dear? Is it safe?”

 _‘It? What is it?’_ Minerva frowned at the cool answer.

“I have the two best sorcerers guarding it, though only one knows it.”

“Who?”

“The Headmistress and Headmaster Snape.”

 “You gave it to the person who-”

Waiting for the staircase to move into place, Minerva listened closely to the conversation happening beneath her, flinching at the cold laugh that floated up.

“The one thing I know for sure about the Headmistress is this, she will crush you if she believes it is for your own good, but she would not kill you. Besides, she can’t get her hands on it, neither can Headmaster Snape.”

Minerva pursed her lips as the girl’s words pierced her heart. She wanted to step in and deny t, but she didn’t when the one question she had wanted to ask Hermione was asked by the strange new woman.

“You never explained how she knew.”

“I wrote her on the run.”

Even high above them, she could hear the disbelief in the woman’s voice.

“You wrote her a letter explaining your love to her, even though you knew nothing would come of it.”

“You’re in rare form today your majesty.”

“Don’t change the topic dear.”

“The letter was charmed to be delivered upon my death. During my…stay at Malfoy Manor, my heart stopped. The second it stopped beating, the letter was delivered. If that hadn’t of happened, I would not have told her.”

“So it was a mistake?”

“Yes.”

Leaning against the banister, Minerva blinked back the sudden tears, barely hearing the two woman below.

“We should start getting ready.”

“It’s going to take hours to do my hair.”

Not even Hermione’s warm laugh was enough to break her from her pained stupor. Minutes passed with Minerva still leaning against the banister, eyes tightly closed to keep the tears at bay. Beside her, the portrait of a young lady cleared her throat, startling the older witch. Looking at the long gone lady, she nodded her head and turned, drawing her mask around her once more. When she stepped off the last stair, she was once again Professor McGonagall.

* * *

Later that night, Hermione walked down the corridor to the Great Hall, the sound of her heels clicking echoing down the empty hallway. Stopping in front of the window, she looked at her reflection with a critical eye. Her hair had been lengthened magically, so it now hung freely at her hips. Looking further down, she smiled at the snug dress. The minute she had laid eyes on the red dress in Regina’s walk in, she had wanted it. The red velvet was warm against her skin, as was the soft black lace that wrapped around each of her thumbs. But what really caught her eye was the panel of lace covering the plunging neckline. Yes, she had chosen the right dress for tonight. Picking up the long train, she continued on her way.

Stopping in the doorway of the hall, she looked the crowd over. A few turned to see who the new and somewhat late arrival was and immediately turned to their neighbour to whisper about her.

_“Merlin, look at her!”_

_“Where’d she get the dress? Nothing like that was even available!”_

_“Who knew the bookworm had it in her.”_

Smirking at the whispers, she made her way over to the person she was looking for.  Striding up to the pair confidently, she picked up one of the cups of punch beside her and nodded her head respectfully. “Professor Sprout.”

Smiling warmly at the girl, the Herbology professor nodded back, “Miss Granger, you look wonderful tonight.”

“Thank you Professor.” She said, smiling slightly in return.

“Wow Hermione!” Neville gushed, looking her over, “You look fantastic!”

Smiling wider, Hermione wiped at his shoulder, “You clean up pretty good too.”

“Thanks Hermione.”

Laughing softly, she gestured to the dance floor, “Shall we show them how it’s done?”

“I would love to dance with a beautiful woman.” Taking her hand, he stepped away, nodding to his favourite teacher, “Professor.”

“Go and have fun you two.” She laughed, smiling knowingly at them.

Joining the crowd of dancers expertly, Hermione smiled, relaxing slightly in the presence of her friend. “She thinks we’re together.”

“So does the rest of the school.”

“If only they knew.” She scoffed.

“I hope they don’t.” Neville shot back.

Laughing loudly, Hermione dropped the subject and just enjoyed the dance with her friend as he easily guided them around the stumbling couples. Spinning them around sharply, Neville watched the train Hermione still held in her hand flared out, barely missing a couple from the grade below them. Grinning widely at his friend, he spun her under his arm, glad when she laughed once more.

“May I cut in?”

Stopping at the question, the pair turned and looked at the older woman.  “Headmistress.”

Minerva smiled slightly at the young lady before looking at Neville, “May I?”

Looking the usually stern woman over, Hermione arches her brow at the thigh high slit of her white dress. Beside her, Neville looked at her questioningly. Tilting her head, she looked at the over coat she wore, noting the similarity to the one Regina had pulled out for the night.

“Of course.” Neville bowed, handing Hermione over to the Headmistress.

Taking the older witches hand, Hermione noticed the gems decorating the point of her sleeve. Relaxing enough to allow for the quick steps the Headmistress was leading her in; she absentmindedly noticed the same gems dotting the mesh covered cleavage.

“You look lovely Miss Granger.” Minerva complimented.

Arching her brow slightly, Hermione inclined her head, “ As do you Headmistress. Are you to be your namesake?”

Smirking, Minerva twirled them around in a sharp circle, the slit in her dress allowing everyone to see glimpses of her long legs. “What about you? Who are you tonight?”

“I am a Queen.”

“Where’s your crown?”

“A crown does not make you a Queen, how you treat your subjects does.”

“Wise words,” Minerva frowned, “Who said them?”

Watching the older woman closely, Hermione answered, “Regina.”

The change in the older woman was immediate.

“And where is Ms Mills?” Minerva asked, “I have not seen her since this afternoon.” Straight away Minerva regretted her words, she had no wish to let the young lady know she had heard their conversation on the stairs.

Hermione frowned, “She’s getting ready.” Tilting her head, she smirked in amusement, “She likes to make an entrance.”

This time it was Minerva who arched her brow in question, “Much like you did?”

“Not quite.”

After the quick exchange, neither spoke for the rest of the dance. Knowing the song was coming to a stop, Minerva twirled them around. Smiling slightly, she tipped her head, “You are a wonderful dancer.”

Stepping back, Hermione smiled, “Thank you Headmistress. As are y-” She didn’t get to finish her sentence as her attention, as well as everyone else’s was drawn to the dark purple smoke swirling around on the raised platform at the back of the hall.

Acting quickly, Minerva stepped in front of Hermione, drawing her wand, only to frown in confusion as the smoke cleared. Standing there was Regina, dressed in her tight black dress and coat and tails, all covered with gems.

“Sorry I’m late.” She smiled, sounding anything but, “But I had to pick something up.” She stepped up the platform, once again disappearing from sight in a cloud of smoke.

 She reappeared in front of Hermione and Minerva, “Hello dear.”

Smiling, Hermione bowed, just as Regina had shown her. “Your majesty.”

Frowning, Minerva looked between the two.

“Come now,” Regina cooed, raising Hermione with her gloved hand, “There is no need for that dear,” She smiled, “Are we not equals?”

Hermione looked at her friend closely, searching her expertly blank face for any clue, “Regina, tell me you didn’t.”

Regina bowed, her long dark ponytail swinging over her shoulder, “You crown,” she smiled, holding out the silver, diamond crown, “Princess.”


End file.
